A Century Later
by ragecage
Summary: Alfinn... disagrees with his fellow Graybeards. This has made him unpopular. But now he's done something drastic. And possibly stupid. He's, uh, resurrected the Dragonborn. Who's been dead for 116 years. But he had a good reason! Somehow, the Dragon Priests have been brought back to life, and the College of Winterhold has been razed... and the Elder Scroll that was kept there taken
1. Sovngarde

**Just got registered, so school starts tomorrow for me. Damn. Anyway, I wanted to get the first chapter out, so here you go.**

A crimson dragon twisted effortlessly through the sky. Suddenly, it dropped down, spreading its wings at the last moment, catching the air and touching down softly. The dragon shrunk into a humanoid body, wings disappearing last.

"Showoff." Ulfric Stormcloak muttered.

"Psssh." Raige scoffed, "If you're good at something, why not show it off?"

"Dammed Elf." Ulfric said under his breath. He liked her, he really did, he even forgave her for killing him, but she was so damn cocky sometimes.

Raige laughed and nodded to Tsun.

"Dovahkiin." Tsun acknowlaged.

She strode across the Whalebone Bridge with Ulfric, and they entered the Hall of Valor together.

Svaknir was singing a song of his own invention, the one which told of the defeat of Alduin at the hands of the Dragonborn. What better way for Raige to announce her presence then joining in?

Ulfric shook his head and went to find something to drink.

Raige plopped down on a bench next to Farkas and grabbed some bread.

"Serana was looking for you." Her husband grunted.

"Hmm." Raige answered, her mouth full. Four people were allowed to enter Sovngarde because of her, three of which were some of her most favorite people in the world. Raige chewed and swallowed. "Lydia with her?" The two of had them hit it right off, weirdly.

"Lydia's over there." Farkas gestured.

Raige stood up, thumped her husband on the back and headed towards Lydia. Dying hadn't changed one thing. Raige was still a High Elf among Nords.

**Anything else and I'd just be rewriting the game. I thought of this, AND IT WAS PERFECT. I'll try to update as much as possible.**


	2. Tamriel

**Once again, my brother needs to shut his face and stop stealing my computer. (At least charge it, will ya?) This time it's about who was in Sovngarde. Farkas and Serana can be cured of their Lycanthropy and Vampirism respectively, and they are bth Nords, so they can make it to Sovngarde, thanks to the Dragonborn. Thank you Wyatt, for your feedback.(sarcasm)**

**I use a few mods, so sorry if something doesn't add up in your game experience.**

_-My Mama has a scar just like that! But she's not always at home. She said she had to go on a boat to Solestiem, and Lydia says that's in Morrowind…_

_-Lucia_

Alfinn urged his horse to go faster. He couldn't afford to waste a second. If the others found out about this…. What, exactly? What would they do? Probably preach about the Voice at him for a few hours. Alfinn decided that's not what he was worried about. No, he was worried about what was happening, not about what Master Gjurd thought of him.

The brown horse made its way up the mountain, having no difficulty making it to the top. Alfinn dismounted and patted the horse's flank.

The shrine was a mess. The local flora had taken it over, and the statue was surrounded by dragon's tongue and blue mountain flowers. However, the statue itself was in good condition, except for the fact Talos' nose had broken off. In all other respects, it was perfect. Out of the way, isolated, and so old it was forgotten.

Alfinn removed a small, linen- wrapped object from his pocket. An Amulet of Talos, tarnished with age. He hoped it would help. He hoped having the shrine nearby would help. But, it all came down to his Thu'um. Alfinn placed the amulet at the feet of the Talos statue, and he stood back.

Dragonkind… hunter… born. Three words he had meditated on for months.

"Dov… Ah Kiin!" Alfinn's voice rent the air, as a red glow appeared in front of him. It solidified into a humanoid shape, yet it was too tall to be human. Was this… the legendary Dragonborn?

Raige coolly looked around. After a long time in Sovngarde, Tamreiel felt like a cold bucket of water dumped over her head. Her eyes stopped on the Nord in Graybeard robes. Yes… It was his Voice that had called.

Alfinn was speechless. A High Elf, the Dragonborn? Impossible…

Needless to say he was expecting a Nord. Perhaps even an Imperial. Most certainly not a mer.

"It takes a certain strength of Voice to call one from the dead." Raige said. "I assume you did it for a reason?"

Alfinn gulped and took it in. The Altmer wore a motley of armor. Her boots and gloves were that of the shadowy Nightingale order, but the armor itself was clearly vampiric. She also wore a black cape with a red and black hood.

Her weapons were equally mismatched, two Dwarven swords, and Ebony bow with Elven arrows.

"I… um… Nightingale?" was all Alfinn could think to say.

"No," Raige said, "I can't stand Deadra. I stole these. I appreciate the irony."

"Uh huh." Alfin stuttered. Raige sighed.

"Why am I here?" she asked patiently.

"Oh, well…" Alfinn started, getting his thoughts together. "Skyrim needs you again, Dragonborn."


	3. The Kind of Questions You Would Ask

**I own Skyrim and The Elder Scrolls as soon as I go to Equestria and hang out with Rainbow Dash and Applejack. I wish.**

"_I'll see you in Sovngarde, my love"_

"_You could have gone to the hunting grounds." Alea cut in. Farkas glared at her, but Raige laughed._

"_I suppose I'll see you at the End of Days then, Alea."_

"So that's it?" Raige asked. "The Dragon Priests have come back to life, you can't tell me how you know this, they have an Elder Scroll, and you can't tell me how you know that either?"

"Ye-ess…" Alfinn said haltingly.

"You pulled me from Sovngarde for this? There is no other hero?"

"No."

Raige sighed. This was ridicules. But she had done more then this with less information.

"Let me make a few things clear. I don't trust you. I find out you're lying, I will kill you, Graybeard or not. I run this show. You keep up or get left behind. Mindoraan? (Understand)"

Alfinn nodded quickly.

"Alright, I understand. Lets go."

"No." Raige said decisively.

"N-no?"

"I have some things to ask." Raige told him. "I've been dead, and time has passed. How much?"

"One- one hundred a-and s-sixteen years." Alfinn stuttered, getting more nervous by the second.

"Wow. That long." Raige breathed. "This will not be the Skyrim I knew. Is Paarthurnax still alive? Is he still the leader of the Graybeards?"

"Yes." He said shortly.

"What about Odahviing? Is he still around?"

"He comes and goes." Alfinn answered, relaxing. He could do this. "But he is very much alive."

"What about dragons in general?" Raige asked curiously.

"A few follow The Way of the Voice, but most roam the wilds and mountains."

"Hmm. I never thought any dragon would swallow their pride long enough to learn the Way. Who controls Skyrim? The Aldmeri Dominion? The Empire? Do either of them still exist?"

"The Empire fell long ago. The Dominion, however, thrives. Part of the Skyrim you knew belongs to them, but most of it is still its own country."

"What of the Fyre?" Raige asked thoughtfully.

"The what?" Alfinn said, confused.

"Never mind. Lets get this started. Where are the Dragon Priests?"

"In the east mountains," Alfinn answered, "I only have one horse, but we can buy one in a city along the way…"

"No need." Raige cut him off.

Her hands lit up with the purple glow of a conjuration spell. She cast it, and Alfinn's jaw hit the floor.

A skeletal horse appeared, its mane and tail alight with purple fire.

"Arvak, my friend. Let's go kill something." Raige skillfully swung up, and she urged Arvak down the hill. Alfinn quickly got on his horse and followed.


	4. I Hate Draugr

**Sorry this took so long. I have had school and two projects to do.**

"_No one leaves until someone dies."_

"_Ok, fine. YOL… TOOR!"_

_-Astrid and Raige_

Alfinn was already regretting this. Raige, in his opinion, needed to shut up and take this seriously. She constantly made random observations about 'Skyrim in my time…' and when she wasn't doing that, she was humming or singing. It was driving Alfinn crazy. He rode with his head down, trying to block out all noise, until his horse stopped abruptly.

He looked up, irritated, and saw that his horse was inches from Arvak's flaming tail. Raige was sitting straight up, stiffed. Her bow was in hand, and she held an arrow between her ring and middle finger.

"Did you hear that?" Raige asked quietly.

"No," Alfinn said, irascible.

Raige scanned the trees, looking for the source of the disturbance. She slid off the hellish horse, taking a few wary steps forward. Five figures stepped out of the trees, and Raige drew her bow, taking careful aim.

The newcomers were wasted, rotted bodies, little more than bones. Leathery skin hung loosely from their frames, and decomposed, rusted steel armor made unbearably strident noises as they walked.

"Draugr. Death Lords." Raige muttered. "I hate draugr."

She released the owl-feathered arrow from her bow, and it flew straight into the chest of the closest draugr. There was a brilliant explosion of gold energy, and the draugr was reduced to ashes. Raige let fly another arrow, before sheathing her bow and drawing her twin Dwarven swords as the undead came closer. The first went down with a sword impaled through his chest. Then it got thrown at the second, who was also then beheaded with a swift stroke.

The third and final draugr caught her off guard.

"FUS RO DAH!"

Raige went flying, skidding in the dirt. She sat up and shook herself.

"Anytime now, Graybeard." She shouted at Alfinn. He ungracefully dismounted and faced the draugr, who charged at him.

"YOL TOOR SHUL!" Alfinn yelled, a torrent of fire enveloping the draugr. But it kept going, charging at a terrified Alfinn.

"WULD!" Raige shouted, sprinting forward and stabbing the draugr in the gut. She dropped her other sword and used Sparks, effectively frying the draugr.

Raige stood still, panting.

"Your Thu'um is weak." she observed. "You have not been studying the Voice for very long, have you?"

"Five years." Alfinn hissed. He heard enough about his Voice from Master Gjurd. "What is that bow?" He changed the subject. The burst of energy intrigued him.

"It's the bow Auri-el made me. Not to be confused with the Bow of Auri-el. And blessed arrows."

Alfinn sighed. He was stuck with her. She was annoying but….interesting. He only hoped she would get the job done.

"There's more." Raige said, as draugr came out of the trees by the dozens. "I hate draugr. I hate Dragon Priests. To Oblivion with all of you!"

Raige began to transform.

**Thank you to everyone who started following!**

**Fingolfin is really cool **  
**FullmetalX226 **  
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**opalwolf12**


	5. Battle of the Undead

**Ok, so I am taking Dnachangers's advice and putting in more detail. (Like I said, too little or too much?) You people let me know if you want the previous chapters rewritten like this. Keep in mind that I'll do it anyway, but your answers will affect when.**

Dozens of rotted draugr streamed out of the trees. Have I mentioned that Raige hated drauger? With a passion. Most of all, she hated the noise they made. The dry creaking of their bones rubbing together, the screeching of their rusted armor, and the scraping of their feet, usually against stone, but this time they were walking on years of fallen leaves, so it wasn't too bad. But still, it grated on her keen elven ears on got on her nerves. The second thing she hated was when they Shouted. It just didn't seem natural, a thing like this retaining the Voice. And some had really powerful Voices, such as Death Lords.

All the draugr approaching were Death Lords. They formed rough ranks as they came clear of the trees, and charged at the annoyed Dragonborn and the fearful Graybeard.

"Damn." sighed Raige under her breath, "Zuk do niin. Fahvos, Talos, fahvos?"(More of them. Why, Talos, why?) She pushed her hair behind her ears and drew her twin dwarven swords. "FUS… RO DAH!" she Shouted, the Thu'um throwing the front line of draugr back, so that they crashed into their fellows and interrupted the whole charge. "You any good with a sword?" Raige asked Alfinn in the precious few seconds she had bought.

"I…" Alfinn started before she impatiently shoved one of her swords into his hand. She faced the horde of undead, legs apart, her lone sword held loosely in her right hand. She held her left hand up, and it lit ablaze with the fierce flames of the Firebolt spell. She raised her sword and charged into battle, a swift battle cry escaping her throat. Her grip on her sword tightened into steel as she brought it down onto a draugr's skull, cleaving it and the helmet encasing it into two.

If these creatures had any blood to bleed, the fifty feet between the road and the treeline would have been painted red. Raige's sword danced merrily between opponents, decapitating, eviscerating, and generally slicing things to shreds. This dance had always been as natural to Raige as breathing. She relaxed, and allowed the Dovah instincts to take over, augmenting her already keen senses and whip-like reflexes. Once, she had feared her own dragon soul, afraid that she would lose control of it, and it would fall to the same path as the other power-hungry Dov. But that fear was no longer relevant. She had conquered herself and her fears long ago. She knew every inch of herself, mortal and Dovah, and there was no chance she would lose either.

* * *

Alfinn watched in horror. Luckily, none of the draugr seemed to have noticed him. But Raige was a terrifying sight indeed. Her hood had fallen down sometime during battle, and her short hair swung with every movement. Her cape billowed behind her like the wings of some great bird of prey, yet it did not hinder her. The Death Lords fell left and right, but she did not trip over the remains of her fallen enemies. Instead, she leapt lightly over them, or sidestepped skillfully around them. She truly looked like a hero of legend, come to bring Oblivion down to all her foes. The most frightening thing about her, though, was her face. It was all done with an unchanging snarl, while a red fire danced behind her yellow-green eyes, a fire glad to be doing what it did best. As the horde lessened, the snarl curled into a cold smile.

Alfinn's horse had fled long ago. Raige's fiery horse, Arvak she called it, had been taken down by the draugr as it fought them, and its remains had disappeared. Alfinn was hiding on the other side of the road, cowering between the trees. What had he brought on himself? Could he really trust this savage of an elf? Could he trust someone who took such obvious pleasure in killing? He wondered if death, stripping away her mortality, had made her more like the greedy, bloodthirsty dragons. If that was the truth, how could he trust her, if the world rested in her hands once again?

* * *

"To Oblivion with this." Raige exclaimed. The draugr just kept coming, no matter how many she killed, and she was starting to tire. Besides, it had been ages since she truly fought like a Dovah. Last time was… that snafu with Clavacus Vile, her least favorite Daedric Prince. He said she owed him something or other, to which she promptly handed him his ass.

Raige stretched her arms out, as the bones in her arms grew longer, her fingers repositioning themselves before elongating and becoming webbed. Raige's skin turned crimson, and scales formed.

Raige was almost stonewalled, and she almost got stuck halfway through the transformation. It was much harder to change here then in Sovngarde. Usually, it was as natural as water flowing downhill; it was the shape she was meant to be. Raige wasn't going to give up just like that, though, not with the promise of once again doing battle how she was born to do it. She called upon the Dovah within her again, and forced the change forward. A dragon's roar shook the skies, and Alfinn passed out.

The draugr Death Lords didn't last long, either.

**Thank you to the new lovely followers!**

**anakinpk200**

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**Sorry this took so long. I've had school and homework to do, and even I have to sleep somteime.**


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